


Yes, Your Majesty

by Rhysanoodle



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-28 23:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30147486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhysanoodle/pseuds/Rhysanoodle
Summary: Shameless porn without a plot of Chaorian getting busy on the throne
Relationships: Dorian Havilliard/Chaol Westfall
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Yes, Your Majesty

“Come here, peasant,” the king crooned from his throne.

“You know, I’m king too,” Chaol snorted back as he drank in his husband, completely nude with the exception of an ornate scarlet cape and his crown—of course.

Dorian crooked his head, a glimmer of amusement twinkling in his azure eyes, yet he made no move to reply.

Fine. Perhaps Chaol deserved this for tempting him this morning, but it wasn’t his fault that Aelin had practically barged into their chambers before he could finish Dorian off.

But the Queen of Terrasen and her cohorts were now on their way back to Orynth, and Chaol had a sneaking suspicion that the guards had been told not to let anyone into the throne room under pain of death once he had answered Dorian’s summons.

He took one step forward, reading Dorian’s miniscule shift in position, and halted.

“It’s not wise to keep your king waiting,” Dorian purred, lust fogging his sapphire eyes.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but what exactly do you want with me?”

Dorian gestured to his lap. “Your sovereign requires your utmost attention, right here.” He patted his bare thighs. “And while you’re at it take off that ridiculous getup. I’ve had men hanged for wearing less atrocious attire in my presence.”

Chaol stifled a laugh at Dorian, scorning an outfit he had purchased for Chaol not that long ago, but he could play along. Dorian’s thirst for roleplay was always insatiable, yet it wasn’t often that they ever got to be in this room. Together and alone. Just the echoes of Dorian’s cruelty-laced voice throughout the chamber were enough to have Chaol stiffening at the prospect.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Chaol humbly bowed, throwing out the honorism along with his tunic and breeches.

“What a loyal subject, now …” Dorian’s head nodded to his awaiting lap, the invite enticing, yet Chaol couldn’t help but drink in the whole picture as he took patient, calculated steps towards his lover—the abs which weren’t lacking for definition, the soldier standing at attention for its captain, the powerful thighs upon which he was to perch.

As Chaol took his rightful seat upon the throne, Dorian pulled him to his chest, pressing up against him firmly so Chaol was all but grinding on his erect cock. “Dance for me,” Dorian crooned, and Chaol ground further into him, hips gyrating as his ass caressed the rock-hard member which had his own growing to full height.

Dorian wasted no time in reaching one arm around, beginning to stroke in rhythm with Chaol’s movements as spit-soaked fingers pried at his entrance, teasing and stretching him out for the king’s grand entrance.

Chaol was already feeling the lightning coursing through him as Dorian paused just short of his completion and lifted Chaol’s hips up, guiding him onto his awaiting cock.

As Dorian filled Chaol to the brim, his lover kept a grip on his hips assisting with the grinding as he pumped Chaol along the length of his shaft, pounding into him with every downswing.

As Chaol felt Dorian’s thighs tense beneath him, he heard, “Cum for your king.” And he happily obliged, time slowing as electricity poured through his veins, lighting up his every nerve as he fulfilled his king’s demands, spilling all over the throne beneath them.

Dorian pressed his sticky cheek to Chaol’s back, crown sliding precariously as he let out a sigh. “You. Are. My favorite. Subject,” he panted, before pulling the piece of metal from his helm and setting the ruby-encrusted contraption on Chaol’s head.

“Next time, you get to be king.”


End file.
